Conspiracy by Stephen Coonts & Jim Defelice

Author:Stephen Coonts & Jim Defelice [Coonts, Stephen & Defelice, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-05-05T23:00:00+00:00

Conspiracy

69

the doctor who had examined Forester was one of three

part- time coroners, all paid a modest retainer by the county

to be on call. Full- time, he was a general practitioner, and

his days were very full—or at least his office was when Lia

went to see him. Even so, he squeezed her in between two

appointments without her having to read more than one of

the issues of Glamour magazine piled in the waiting room.

“Do you get a lot of gunshot wounds up here?” Lia

asked, after the doctor had reviewed the basics of the autopsy

report.

“I know what you’re getting at.” He smiled, but there was

an edge to his voice. “Small- town guy, looks at a hom i cide

maybe once or twice a year, if that. Right? Part- time guy.

How’s he supposed to know what he’s looking at, right?”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Admittedly, we don’t have many hom i cides here. Which

is why the coroners are part- time.”

He reached down and pulled a file from the bottom

drawer of his desk, opened it, and slid a photo forward. It

showed what the bullet had done to the back of Forester’s

head. Lia had seen a black- and- white copy; it looked more

gruesome in color.

“I have seen that sort of thing before,” said the doctor. “A

lot, actually. I worked in trauma medicine in New York City

for about five years after my internship. I have to tell you,

this is a textbook case.”

Lia leafed through the rest of the photos the doctor had.

Most hadn’t been included in the formal report, though nothing

in them jumped out at her.

“The Secret Ser vice has copies of the report,” said the

doctor. “They had their own doctors look at the body, of

course.”

“Isn’t it true, though, that you can’t tell whether it was

suicide from the wounds?” Lia asked. “Someone could have

held the gun to his mouth.”

“Technically, you’re right. But his mouth was closed

around the barrel, the direction of the bullet was exactly as

you’d expect if he were holding it himself, there were no

signs that he was being held down or that he’d been in a

fight.”

“He’d had some drinks.”

“Sure. His blood alcohol content was oh- point- one- one.

Legally intoxicated if he were driving, but not stumblingdown

drunk. He wouldn’t have been unconscious. The pathology

report on the organs was handled by the state police

initially. They all came back negative. There weren’t any signs

of drug abuse, no pills at the scene. Really does look like a

suicide. I’ve seen a couple like this. Very ugly.”

Lia put the report and photos back in the folder. Staging a

death to make it look like suicide wasn’t impossible, and despite

what the doctor said, she still had her doubts that he

was expert enough to pick it up. But the police had said the

same thing.

So was she resisting? Because she knew a little about

Forester?

“Depression is a funny thing,” said the doctor, finally finished

sending the files. “We look for logic, but sometimes

it’s not there.” He rose. “I know people have a hard time with

suicides. Accepting it. But I think it’s pretty clear that’s what

happened in this case.”

226

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